The Gotham Job
by PaBurke
Summary: Elliot had argued fiercely against the job.


The Gotham Job

By: PaBurke

Universes: Batman (General Knowledge) /Leverage (Season One)

Warnings: tiny bit o'angst

Word Count: 1300

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Elliot had argued fiercely against the job.

He argued against the need of coming to Gotham. And the fact that their crooked manager worked at Wayne Industries? This was wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

'Course, the more he argued the more Nate and the others got curious. This was going to be wrong. Hardison thought that Eliot was scared of Batman. Wrong… and a little right. Parker that the idea of a Bat-Man was hysterical, up to the point that Eliot had heard her snort-laugh too much in the recent days. Eliot finally got her to shut up by mentioning that Batman's zip lines had to be on par with her own. Parker had started bugging Hardison for video files on the vigilante. After the second video file (and Eliot was surprised that Batman let that many exist online), Parker decided that she either needed to steal or to buy Batman's gear.

Thankfully, Nate had strictly forbidden Parker from searching out the Black Knight. Not like that was going to stop the Great Detective from searching out them.

Damn it, Eliot had to stop thinking in capitals and he had to start listening to Nate's voice in his ear.

Yeah. He had argued against ear buds. He told them that Wayne had the technology to hack them, but Hardison convinced Nate that nothing on the market had those kinds of capabilities and that Wayne barely had any security, at all, and what he did have was easily manipulated. Eliot had laughed long and hard at that.

_Wayne_ had a security system that could be manipulated_?_

It was possible, but it was on par with Nate having a security system that could be hacked. Eliot nearly skipped the job, but the manager had some mobster hitmen on his payroll and Eliot had to protect his team.

Even from themselves.

He and Parker turned the hall corner and slid to a stop.

Bruce –damn him, damn him- Wayne stood in the middle of the hallway. He was alone, with only a silver tipped cane as protection. Oh sure, someone who wasn't Eliot Spencer might think that the cane was because he was an old man who needed assistance, or maybe a touch of flash and money for bragging rights, but Eliot knew better.

He didn't have a chance in hell of getting past the Old Man as long as that cane was in his hands. And damn it, he was thinking in capitals again.

"Eliot Spencer," Bruce said his name as if tasting a fine wine, as if it was his own creation. And damn it, just like Eliot's distinct fighting style and education, Bruce had crafted the identity. "And Parker Bell. What a pleasant surprise. I hope you have time for tea."

Eliot wasn't so taken by Bruce that he missed the way that Parker gasped. She took the two steps closer to Eliot and whispered loud enough that Bruce could hear, "He's spooky."

"You have no clue," Eliot muttered back.

"Tea?" Bruce offered again, pointing at a silver serving set. "I have plenty for your whole team and fresh raspberry scones."

The idea of Bruce and Nate in the same room, each taking the measure of the other, scared the living daylights out of Eliot. But he knew that Bruce was offering it as an olive branch. Alfred's raspberry scones were Eliot's favorite in the world. He had never copied down that recipe when he followed the beloved butler around his domain. He wanted that recipe.

"Thank you, no," Eliot said. "We are on a schedule."

"A pity," Bruce murmured, acting perfectly like a sad, lonely, kind old man. It was a grifting job that Sophie would admire, but Eliot saw the breadth of the shoulders and the balance on the balls of his feet. Eliot had heard the rumors. 'Kind old man' was far from the truth. "I must thank you for taking out the trash. I don't have the energy for such fights anymore."

Eliot couldn't tell if the admission was part of the grifting or truth. He was afraid of the answer. He wasn't surprised that Bruce knew about the corruption going on right under his nose. After all, hadn't that been one of Eliot's own arguments against taking the job in the first place? Nate, Hardison and Sophie were all demanding answers in his ear. Parker (Bell and how the hell had Bruce known that?) was shaking her head at the buzzing.

Bruce was amused, damn him. If he wasn't eavesdropping on the conversation, Eliot would eat his shorts. "Well, do be selective with your thieving," he admonished. "But with all of the Robin Hood actions I was expecting to see _tights_."

"We're not going to the ballet," Eliot snarled. His attitude didn't faze the Old Man and he hadn't expected it. Bruce was laughing at him behind that sweet, harmless façade. "Have you changed the security?" he asked directly. The ear bud silenced with the team's shock of him _directly __asking __the __owner __of __the __company __they __were __in __the __process __of __robbing_.

"Nothing you can't overcome," Bruce told him and there was no mistaking that twinkle in eyes. The last time Bruce had looked at him like that, they had been working together, untangling the riddles of a labyrinth after the main danger had past and they were just making it safe for passersby. Bruce always did enjoy those things. He was such a mastermind that it was silly for him to pretend to be anything else.

Eliot nodded once. He turned to go, but Bruce said his name. "Eliot," not the one that he feared that Bruce would say.

Eliot turned and Bruce tossed him and then Parker a scone each. "One for the road," he said. Then he turned and walked to his office. Presumably to do work, but Eliot knew the Old Man too well. He was going to watching and listening to their performance.

"Are they safe to eat," Parker whispered.

Eliot took a big bite of his. It was as delicious as always. "Yes," he muttered.

As promised, Eliot had had to use his voice, his retinal scan and his old key codes to get into the safe. There was so much more security than Hardison had described that everyone knew that Eliot had once 'worked' for Wayne Industries. Eliot had also had to use his hands and his feet to defeat the guards. He couldn't help but feel that twist in his heart when the men didn't go down as easily as they should have. He knew that Bruce was watching and evaluating and Eliot feared that he didn't measure up, yet again.

Some things never changed.

And then, when they had cracked the safe, stolen the pertinent files and had escaped to the van, there was the plate of scones waiting for them on the driver's seat. Never mind that the van had been locked and since Parker and Elliot had used a zip line, there was no way that Wayne should have been able to sneak those damn things down. Eliot eyed the plate of scones. Hadn't there been two more? Had the delivery person eaten them?

A patrolwoman was walking by with her partner. Eliot stared at the red hair and the familiar line of the shoulders. He stared at the damn scone in her hand. He wanted to charge out there and get it back but didn't want Parker to watch him get his ass handed to him by a girl. He'd recognize Babs in any disguise but this didn't feel like a disguise.

Barbara Gordon had finally followed in her father's footsteps and Tim Drake now walked the opposite path as a hitter.

Some things had changed.

Only the damned Bruce Wayne stayed the same.

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End file.
